Author's Notes: Hello...I'm sorry I've been gone for quite awhile now. I took a long break from writing for reasons that I don't even know... But it's okay, I'm back. Hehe.
Um, I should've addressed this earlier -- although I'm not fond of flames, I don't mind them, but I only accept them on one condition:that they have proper justification and critique. I don't mind being critiqued, but please, let's critique nicely.
Anyways, thank you so much for reading this far or for returning. As always, I would love love love to know how I'm doing.
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin is currently not under my posession. Currently.
Notes to Readers --
To Crewel: Yeah, I was seriously debating with myself whether to have Sano say that one line (where he'd kill Megumiif he saw her again)...it wasn't something he'd really do, but when you get really mad, you tend to say things you don't mean, and in this case,I thought I'd leave that one line be.
To LadyBattousai654: Hi again! It's alright, I will perfectly understand if you don't get to my fics for a looooong time...No worries. But thanks for taking the time out to keep up with the fic! Honestly, it means a lot.
To Mirune Keishiko: First off, thanks so much for the thoughtful review. The thoughts you put in there really will come in handy for the plot I'm attempting to build. I'll be sure to include your thoughts into the ficand incorporate them in the proper place. Thanks so much for the suggestions and I hope you like how this fic turns out.
To Everyone Else (no one specific, just literally everyone else...): THANK YOU!
chap. 4 -aku
Flickering candlelight swayed with the night breeze that entered with each customer through the thin wooden door of the inn. In the far corner, Megumi sat, where the darkest shadows were cast off of the stained cream walls.
Although she would have preferred not to have left her home, she had done so after realizing that she had nothing edible in her home. So, she had thought despairingly, she was forced to exit the confines of her house the second time that week -- this time to an inn that had a tiny restaurant residing next to it. She mindlessly made a note to buy more groceries. But for now, she thought tiredly, she would grab a small bite to eat.
She rubbed her already blood-shot eyes, tired from the crying and angsty thoughts that continuously crept into her mind. In front of her, a modest bowl of rice sat with chopsticks laid across the rim. But besides that, a jug the size of her hand stood, its mouth delicately curved so the warm rice wine would fall graciously into her flat, ceramic drinking dish.
A grumpy looking waiter had twice come to ask her for her order, but she sat dumbly, staring at the piece of parchment enscribed with various dishes in her hand and not aware of what she was actually doing. He had left twice, muttering curses under his breath in Shanghainese about stupid travelers and such.
Megumi drank another shot, and let the sake melt in her throat and warm her. She had already lost track of how many she had had, but it didn't really matter to her anymore. She poured another, and watched the liquid swirl, gather, and fall into the wide dish.
She drank again.
Subconsciously, Megumi knew she was attempting to rid herself of the pain plaguing her through the mind-numbing effects of the wine. But the other side of her embraced this fact with open arms, ready to find an escape from the hell she had put up. She had to get away somehow.
And she didn't really care how.
She found her cup empty, and poured mechanically.
Megumi felt the lines creased tightly across her face loosen ever-so-slightly, and her body seemed to want to dreamily float into mid-air; sway on that exact breeze that once again, blew through the door.
The narrow street reflected in his glassy brown eyes, both sides of the path spiraling to the horizon, until it was nothing in the vague line beyond. Buildings of old Chinese architecture stood awkwardly next to the most recent Western buildings, its looming wall a dirtied white. There were no lights on this street, and in the shadows, figures hid discreetly, their presence hardly known.
Sweat began to bead across his forehead, his eyes squinted in concentration. Beside Captain Sanosuke, his men began to shift restlessly from foot to foot, the rustle of their uniform evident against the sharp silence that he had demanded to be present. Although the total number of soldiers Sanosuke had recruited were only twelve (thirteen when Hiroshi had been present), the sound resonating from their shadowed figures was louder than he had hoped. Overhead, cloudy black mist concealed the silver stars that would have otherwise stared down at them in prickles of light.
His heart was beating so fast, throbbing against his chest, palpitating so that it threatened to disturb the eerie night. But he wasn't about to allow this to happen.
He steadied his men by raising his hand, signaling them to wait a bit more.
He pursed his lips, biting down on his tongue to prevent his breathing from coming too loud.
Finally, his ears pricked up at the slightest noise of a fusuma being opened. His eyes picked up the dulled light that suddenly streamed through the window's paper covering.
It was time.
He lifted his hand once more, and let his fingers bend to motion them to make their move. He allowed them to move forward, their footsteps light and soundless against the damp dirt that fell just feet away from the building they had surrounded.
One of his men turned his head, and watched closely for the slightest movement from Sano. He nodded at him.
Yells ensued.
Deep roars pierced the air as blades, fists, and daggers did.
Sanosuke grunted with deep determination and set off after his men into the building.
The wooden door had been smashed down, and lay in broken, splintered pieces on the floor, but Sanosuke knew what had been painted on the door's surface in blood-red ink: Aku.
It was their mark, the insignia they had adopted. Before they struck, Sano sent out one of his men to paint the mark of "bad" on the building in beautiful calligraphy, simply stating boldly that a warning had been given. More often than not, their targets never heeded the warning, much less understood its meaning.
Sanosuke was snapped back to reality by a charging man. His eyes were unfocused, clearly a result of abusive opium use. Sano snorted, disgusted, and threw a punch clear across the man's cheek. The man fell to the ground in a heap, and lay still there, clearly unconscious.
The room was cramped, but large enough to fit a decent amount of people. Low tables and cusions lay either ripped, smashed, or splintered as frenzied fighting continued. Sano's soldiers were cornering every man that had been in the building, while the once taut occupants were now scrambling in a frantic attempt to escape the raid that had begun.
Men of every ethnic background had been in the room. Sano knew no drug knew no race.
He snaked through the room, knocking down whoever dared approach him, and made sure that the drug merchants were either unconscious or bound by rope. He would let none escape.
A soldier marched triumphantly up to Sano and did a half-salute,
"Captain, we've got everyone."
"You sure?" Sano asked, wanting to make sure.
"We're almost positive."
"Fine. Get all the men outside then. Don't harm the ones that are conscious. The one's that are unconscious we can't really do anything about...just make sure everyone's out of the building, got it?"
"Yessir."
Sanosuke's orders were obeyed immediately. Past the broken furniture and bloodied floorboards, the opium merchants were hauled out in a slightly less than gentle way.
"You bastards! Get y'er nose outta business that don't belong to ya!" a conscious man roared. His right eye was swollen to an alarming size, and bruises were painted across his face. He began to struggle with the soldiers that were attempting to get him outside. The man vaguely tried to kick the nearest soldier, and Sano knew immediately that they were going to have a hard time pulling him outside smoothly.
With a twinge of hesitance, Sanosuke ordered softly, "Put him out."
The soldier holding the man obeyed, and swiftly hit a major pressure point behind the man's neck. He gave a soft "ooph" and his head fell limp against his chest, unconscious.
They didn't have much trouble with the other prisoners, and once they were all outside, another man ran up to Sanosuke, saying almost-cheerfully,
"Raid was a success, Cap'n."
Sanosuke nodded in return, "Yea, but we got one more thing to do."
The soldier walked off, and returned with a torch burning with fire in his hand.
"'Ere ya go, sir."
"Arigato." Sanosuke abruptly clenced his mouth shut. The man wouldn't know Japanese words if it smashed into his head. Sano mumbled in a pitiful way to correct himself, "Thanks..."
Sano lifted the torch, and with a mighty roar, he heaved it into the building.
The wrecked building, which had been doused with kerosene, immediately caught the flame, and the red-orange flames began to lick at the fuel, dancing like lithe figures in their black eyes. Sanosuke watched the flames spread, the eager heat feeding off of the wood and fabric that had remained.
Sano knew that the flames would also consume the opium that had been well-hidden in the building's caverns.
He raised his hand, and signaled for his men to pull masks over their mouths and noses. The cloth came across his face, covering everything but his eyes, and protected them from the poisonous fumes of opium that began to creep into the atmosphere. Sano's eyes began to water, and his flushed face was layered with sweat, his face glistening in the light of the heat. He knew it was time to leave.
Once again he motioned at his men, and hoisted himself on top of a dark chestnut horse, his men riding not far behind.
The hooves of their horses echoed in the night, synchronized with the beat the flames danced to, swaying mockingly in front of the prisoners, who were left to be dealt with, this time with real officials.
On the forehead of each prisoner, of each opium dealer, merchant, or producer, either unconscious or conscious, was painted one Chinese character.
Aku.
Bad.
Sanosuke and his men returned to their camp, weary, exhausted, but feeling accomplished. Although Sano would have liked nothing more than to fall gently into bed in his tent, the hooting and woots from outside his tent prevented him from doing so -- his men were celebrating the raid's success.
The spikey-haired man would have thought he would have gotten used to the routine by now. He was either tipped off, or he found out about an opium den; then, he would send out a scout to mark the territory and all the crooks and cracks of the building. And finally, the raid. They virtually always attacked by the shadow of night, hidden well under the cloak of dark stars. And then, Sano knew, when they would return, hopefully with success, there would be celebrations. Perhaps sake would be poured around, and a popular Chinese alcoholic beverage Sanosuke did not know the name of.
But tonight, covered in sweat, grime, and blood, Sano did not feel like taking part in the celebrations. He was happy, oh, yes, he was thrilled that yet another raid had succeeded. But yet, a deep feeling inside of him abruptly welled to the surface, taking over him and suffocating him. He felt that he did not know what it was...But yet, a voice inside his head was taunting him...Yes, you do know what troubles you...It's Megumi...you've hurt her once again, but this time you sent her away...
Sano grunted in irritation and frustration, the ambivalent feelings rushing to the surface. He loved and hated Megumi at the same time. He loved her for her presence. But he hated her all the same for being alive. He loved her smile. But hated her acts, her judgments, her life, her past.
He was playing a game with himself, and Sano did not like it one bit.
The sound of a voice startled him, snapping him out of his thoughts,
"Yo, Captain, dontcha wanna have some fun?" One of his soldiers sauntered into Sano's tent, and smiled broadly, "I think we're going to go out to one of those pleasure houses. Matashi says there's a great place down by the Pearl River that'll take in people without appointments."
Sano tried to smile back, "Um, no, that's alright. I'll stay right here."
"Aw, come on Sir," the soldier said in a whine, "You've worked real hard and you could do with some fun. Those pleasure houses know how to take your worries away. 'Specially after you sent that pretty woman away, I think you'd need it."
Sano stiffened, "No, it's fine. I think I'll turn in early...in fact, I don't think I'm feeling too well."
"You sure then?"
The brown-haired man nodded, and immediately turned his back, stating without words that the conversation was over.
Sano heard the rustle of the flaps of his tent being pushed open, then fall back into place with a whoosh as the man stepped out of his tent. Sano sighed.
He rarely celebrated with his men, and he did not know why he should start now. His head had begun to throb, though he did not know why, and he suddenly thought it best that he did go to bed early.
Sano huffed, and went to work to setting out his futon, spreading the sheets out on the tent's white floor. Sano wasn't sure if it was just in his mind, but he thought he heard a sudden hush spread over the campsite -- the sounds from outside had suddenly silenced into an anxious intake of breath. Something pounded at his head, while simultaneously, he thought he heard his name being muttered.
Curious now, he stepped outside. A rush of cold air brushed at his face in greeting, and he gazed about, taking in the usual fire lit campsite and the few men that had chosen to remain. A shadow crept at the surface of the tents, moving, swaying, tipsy.
He let out a small breath, and knew why his men had suddenly gone quiet.
Megumi walked through the tent's rows, her walk unbalanced and uneven. She walked on two uncoordinated feet, and as she grew closer, Sano could see her cheeks were flushed a brilliant pink, her eyes glazed over in a stupor.
How she had made it into the camp, remembering exactly where to go in such a drunk state, had Sano amazed. Or perhaps she only knew where to go because she was so drunk. Sano did not know, and he did not care to find out. Begrudgingly, he approached her, and saw exactly how drunk she was.
She must have had far more than ten shots...and it was a miracle she was conscious.
Her eyes were unfocused and stared at some faraway place while Sanosuke addressed her, "Megumi...yo, Fox, you drank way too much, you know that?"
Her speech was slurred as she responded, "Sanoo...why arrrrre you talllking tooo me? Thooought you neverr waaanted to taaalk to me again."
Sano shook his head, and overwhelming sympathy took over as he knew he had to somehow get her somewhere else. Her face was a mess, and he could see stained lines on her cheeks -- evident paths of tears that had painted a place for themselves. She was to be pitied, he thought, rolling his eyes.
Megumi attempted another step, but almost fell forward as Sanosuke rushed forward, catching each of her shoulders in his hands. She was unpredictable when she was drunk. He knew she wouldn't remember anything in the morning...and she would have a headache the size of China itself.
"I hope you can hold your liquor, Fox..." Sano muttered under his breath as he swept Megumi off her feet. And using one hand to support her back and with his other situated beneath the crook of her knees, he carried her into his tent. He knew his men would talk in the morning -- rumors would spread -- but right now, he didn't care much about it.
Megumi continued to rant and ramble all the way to Sano's tent. When he finally had dragged her into his futon, he could have smiled at her dishelved figure. But he didn't, and wordlessly walked out of the tent as Megumi spoke her last slurred words before her head slumped onto her chest in unconsciousness,
"I only did it allll tooo see you aagain, Sannooo..."